


one man’s trash

by Thorsday



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorsday/pseuds/Thorsday
Summary: “I wanted to apologize for dumping trash in your bag.” Rintarou motioned with his chin at Kita’s said bookbag.Kita blinked slowly, then gave him a closed-lip smile. “Ah, so it was you all along. Is this your way of compensating?”
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Suna Rintarou, Miya Atsumu & Suna Rintarou
Comments: 15
Kudos: 123





	one man’s trash

**Author's Note:**

> i’m really fond of this ship, especially after the recent haikyuu eps c’: suna is really preoccupied with how kita works hmm 
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated!!

It started with a dare.

See, Rintarou wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. Sure, it was _Kita_ they were talking about, but his competitiveness with Atsumu outweighed his intimidation of his upperclassman. 

Whatever. He simply had to get it over with. With a long, heavy sigh, he schooled his expression into one worthy of a salesman and waved at a passing student. “Excuse me. Do you have a moment?”

“I’m not interested,” was the response he typically got. Luckily, he prepared a spiel in advance—courtesy of the first student that declined. 

“It won’t take long,” Rintarou promised, and he barely managed to suppress a snort at the exasperation on the student’s face. Totally understandable; he would’ve done the same. “I’m collecting disposable and recyclable items for my club. Anything you can throw away works.”

“If that’s all…” She said, trailing off to rummage into her backpack. Inwardly, Rintarou fist pumped the air in victory. She handed him several wrappers and papers before scurrying off. 

Nice. Another one to his collection. He’ll have enough to fill Kita’s bookbag in no time. Just...Rintarou frowned down at his partially filled bag. 

Quite a bit more to go. 

—

Oh, yeah, the prank was absolutely worth it.

Rintarou and Atsumu snickered when Kita opened the flap of his bag, only to find that the contents were replaced with piles of trash. He peered around the locker room in confusion, as if he could find the culprit simply by searching, and it only served to increase their laughter. 

Rintarou didn’t feel awful about the prank, at _all_. For the most part, Kita seemed unbothered by it. Damn him and his limited range of emotions. 

Then, later that day, when he saw Kita cry upon receiving his jersey, his mind short-circuited. 

His view of Kita was obliterated within seconds. He could _cry_ , like the rest of the human population. He could experience _feelings_ , other than stone coldness. 

He was an enigma, and Rintarou was practically itching to piece together who Kita Shinsuke was. 

—

He’s practicing with Kita—just the two of them. 

No, he didn’t plan this out. It happened naturally. And by naturally, he meant that he offered to help clean up the gym, and it inevitably led to them playing a round of volleyball. 

Close enough.

They’re battling to push the ball onto the other side. Rintarou had height, but Kita had experience. Experience, and...the intensity of his gaze, sharp enough to cut through the net. 

Rintarou realized with a jolt that Kita was ethereal. He’s never used that term freely, but it’s the only word that perfectly captured how Kita looked right now. 

He didn’t know what possessed him to readjust his hold on the ball. The shift made his fingers lightly brush Kita’s, and he didn't register that he’d lost until the ball dropped to the floor with a resounding thud. 

Kita drew his mouth into an amused smile. It’s small, a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of smile, but it’s something. “You could’ve won, Suna.”

He stated it like it was a fact, with absolute certainty. Rintarou lifted his shoulder into a half-shrug. “I could’ve.”

Their heavy breathing was suddenly loud and apparent in the gym. It made Rintarou’s stomach pool with heat, and he forced himself not to think about Kita’s breathy pants in a different context with the captain splayed underneath him. 

“Here, drink this.” Kita, thankfully, interrupted his thoughts and pressed a hydro flask into his hand. “Stay hydrated.” 

Rintarou raised the opening to his mouth and paused midway. He doubted Kita brought two hydro flasks, but it wouldn’t be unlike him to. “What about you?” 

“We can share.” Kita picked up the volleyball and effortlessly tossed it into the bin. He made everything look effortless. “Unless you dislike germs that much.”

He didn’t mind germs, not really. Or, Kita’s, at least. He wouldn’t lick the floor for any amount of yen. “Not as much as that Itachiyama ace.”

Kita laughed, and the unexpected sound made Rintarou whip his head around to look at him. Without thinking, he opened his mouth and blurted, “I’ll walk you home.” 

Hell, he hadn’t even phrased it like a question. 

Instead of finding him as a creep, though, Kita gave a brisk nod. “I’d like that.”

But as they walked, the silence between them was overbearing. Rintarou had never felt such desperation to make conversation with anyone before. 

He wished he could be casual with Kita, the way he could with the rest of their teammates. He pondered carefully about what he wanted to say, this time. Finally, he settled with, “How’s it feel to be captain?”

Kita hummed thoughtfully. “Surreal would be the best way to put it. I didn’t think I would make it on the team, let alone as captain.”

“Huh.” That’s stupid. The _team_ would be stupid not to have Kita. He frowned at the thought of an Inarizaki without Kita. It didn’t sit right with him. “I sort of, well, knew you’d make it.”

“I see.” Kita tilted his head back to gaze up at the sky. The sun was dipping under the horizon, and the dim lighting somehow illuminated his features. “Thank you for believing in me.” 

Rintarou didn’t know what precisely he said to make Kita sentimental, but he allowed him to have his moment. 

—

He’s early to practice. Kita is already changing in the locker room, of course.

The weather is, simply put, _freezing_. But Kita only has a jacket draped over his shoulders like a cape. Rintarou narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Slightly.” Kita closed his locker and kneeled to tie his shoelaces, fingers deft and sure. “It’s nothing too major.”

“Why don’t you wear your jacket?” Rintarou can’t remember the last time he’d seen Kita wear a jacket normally. Probably never. 

“I dislike static shocks.” Kita stood up to his full height and placed a hand on one of his hanging sleeves. That made much more sense. Kita hadn’t worn it that way to appear cool; it was to avoid getting shocked. 

Rintarou weighted the risk of his next words. Then he recalled that he didn’t care much and unzipped his jacket, holding it out for Kita to take. “You can wear mine. Can’t remember the last time I got shocked.”

“Thank you, Suna.” Kita held Rintarou’s jacket the same way he’d held his jersey, and it made him feel strangely warm inside. “I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

And it was _thrilling_ to see Kita in his jacket. He was practically drowning in it, and the knowing looks Rintarou received from his teammates inflated his ego. 

—

For once, he tried. Or, at least, put in more effort than he usually would’ve. 

His hard work didn’t go unnoticed by Kita. He smiled in approval, and Rintarou started to understand how girls felt when Atsumu gave them attention.

He was about to ask Kita if he could walk him home when Ojiro beat him to the punch. His jaw clicked shut, and Rintarou returned to packing up his things again.

It’s a little pathetic that he’s vying for Kita’s attention. He didn’t need it before.

The twins quirked their eyebrows at him, and he grumbled a half-hearted “shut up.”

—

He didn’t know how to approach Kita outside of volleyball. As much as he loved the sport, he didn’t want to base their relationship entirely off of it. 

Hence why Rintarou approached him for studying tips. He’s not sure if it’s an improvement.

They’re studying their respective textbook materials, but Rintarou’s watching him out of the corner of his eye. 

He didn’t know when he started to find Kita beautiful. All he was doing was reading a book, but it was _attractive_. The way he dragged his finger across the page, the concentration on his face, the flutter of his eyelashes…

They both began to say something at the same time. It’s painfully awkward. 

“Suna—”

“Kita-san—”

Rintarou resisted the urge to slam his head into his textbook out of embarrassment. Instead, he managed to choke out, “You go first.”

Kita slowly closed his textbook. “Do you have bandages?”

“...what?” Rintarou’s eyes fell to Kita’s hands, but they weren’t injured. He would’ve noticed if they were. 

“Bandages. Do you have any?”

“Yeah, of course,” Rintarou murmured, confused, but he left to retrieve some. When he returned, Kita wordlessly took them and gestured at him to sit down. 

He almost died when Kita delicately held his hands and raised them for perusal. “Your hands. You’ve been working hard lately.”

Rintarou’s face burned. He had to tell himself that Kita was just being a concerned captain, or else he would’ve spontaneously combusted on the spot. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t undermine your health for no reason,” Kita chastised him, taking his time to meticulously wrap each individual finger. “It’s unnecessary.”

“Sorry.” 

Rintarou watched him, and he wondered how many times Kita had done this, either for himself, or for others. He wondered if anyone had done this for him. 

“Oh, hey,” Rintarou said with interest. He couldn’t believe he didn’t notice this detail before. “Your hands are pretty small.”

Kita chuckled. “Are they?”

“Yeah.” Rintarou pressed their palms together and lined up their fingers. Kita’s hand was warm, gentle yet somehow firm. Then his eyes widened slightly, and he tried to backpedal. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Ah. They _are_ small.” Kita did the unexpected and ever-so-slightly interlaced their fingers. Rintarou felt his breath catch in his throat. “Or maybe your hands are big.”

Kita and his small hands were going to be the death of him. His fingers tingled—everywhere they were touching did—and he idly brushed a thumb over Kita’s knuckle. “No, you definitely have small hands.”

Kita laughed. Rintarou doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of it. “I imagine that it makes blocking more efficient.”

Damn, back to a subject he was hoping to evade. “Not really. I would say my waist helps better.”

Scrambling for something else to discuss, Rintarou pointed to his textbook with his free hand. “Could you help me with the next problem?”

Kita nodded briskly. “I can, in fact.”

As he droned on about equations, Rintarou found that he didn’t have the willpower in him to tell Kita that they’re still holding hands.

—

“So, Kita-san, huh?” Atsumu asked not-so-subtly. 

Rintarou glanced around the locker room to make sure no one was eavesdropping before supplying an answer. “What about him?”

“Heard ya like him.”

Rintarou nearly dropped his deodorant and forced his hands to remain steady. How did he…? Was he _that_ obvious that even Atsumu knew? “There must be something wrong with your hearing, then.”

“Rude!” Atsumu shouted, and Rintarou winced at the volume. Definitely nothing wrong with his own hearing. “I know ya do. I’ve seen the way ya look at him.”

Shit, yeah, he was being that obvious. Still, he tried to deny it. “I look at him the same way I look at all of you.”

“Like he hung up the moon himself?” Atsumu grinned smugly at Rintarou’s silence and lowered his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “Little advice from me: ya should tell him straight up how ya feel.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Rintarou shut his locker with a heavy sensation in his heart. “I don’t want to be rejected.”

“Ya won’t even try?”

“No.”

“He’s blunt, but he’s not cruel.” Atsumu nudged Rintarou’s side with an elbow. “Give it a try, would ya?”

“Since when were you an expert on love?” Rintarou muttered. As dense as Atsumu was, he had a point. 

Atsumu smirked. “Always have been.”

—

He’s walking Kita home again.

The only difference this time is that Rintarou inched closer until their shoulders touched. Kita sideglanced him curiously—curiously, not blankly—and that spurred him on.

“I wanted to apologize for dumping trash in your bag.” Rintarou motioned with his chin at Kita’s said bookbag. 

Kita blinked slowly, then gave him a closed-lip smile. “Ah, so it was you all along. Is this your way of compensating?” 

Rintarou could tell he was joking, but he wasn’t here to jest around. He halted, making Kita stop walking, too, and said, “No. I wanted to clear that so I can confess to you properly.”

Kita didn’t outwardly react, but his head turned to provide him his full attention. He’s quiet, but his gaze was calculating. 

“I like you,” Rintarou said in a rush of breath. Get it over with. “More than a captain and a friend. I just wanted you to know that.”

Kita didn’t say anything for a while. His countenance was purposefully empty. “Is this another prank?”

“No. I wouldn’t joke about this.”

At that, Kita’s stoic expression melted, and he looked almost…fond. Relieved. “Thank you for telling me.”

It’s not necessarily a rejection, but it’s not an acceptance, either. Rintarou could live with that. “Sure, yeah.”

“I wasn’t finished talking, Suna,” Kita said, and before he could ask him what he meant, he augmented with, “The feeling’s mutual.”

Rintarou felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Or like Chuupets had gone out of business. He let out an intelligent, “Huh?”

“I already like you as a friend,” Kita explained casually, like he hadn’t just altered Rintarou’s world for the second time. “Liking you romantically shouldn’t be hard, either.”

“Kita-san,” Rintarou said in a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t care if you don’t like me back. You shouldn’t force yourself to—”

Kita gripped him by the collar of his uniform and used his momentary surprise to pull him down. He placed a gentle kiss to the corner of Rintarou’s mouth and smiled coyly. “I’m not forcing myself. I know what I want.”

Rintarou could only say, dumbfoundedly, “Oh. Okay.”

Kita laughed, and he started to walk again. When he reached the top of the hill, he threw a glance over his shoulder to smile back at Rintarou. “Are you coming?”

Rintarou shook himself out of his stupor and broke into a jog to catch up. “Definitely.”


End file.
